


The Sunshine State Job

by KarmasChild



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-20
Updated: 2009-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-04 16:28:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarmasChild/pseuds/KarmasChild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A con doesn't always run according to plan. Sometimes, the unexpected kinks are the best kind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sunshine State Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cidercupcakes (musicforswimming)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicforswimming/gifts).



The cruise was not part of the plan. They were supposed to wine and dine with the mark, but not get too close. The man was a snake. As smooth as an alpine ski slope and as dangerous as a mountain avalanche. Eliot grunted in annoyance as he rubbed the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. The snow metaphors taking over his thoughts were in direct proportion to how hot the weather was becoming on this unexpected voyage.

A glance to his right told him one member of the team wasn't unhappy about the tropical sun. Sophie – sorry, Catalina Lonsdale – looked right at home on her lounge chair as she soaked up the rays. The story for the con was that Ms. Lonsdale's terribly indulgent, but largely absent, husband had sent her to Florida for a weekend of pampering while he was busy with 'work'. Eliot was put into the role of personal assistant to Ms. Lonsdale in order to keep close, since the mark was said to have no qualms about having the little annoyances in his life made to disappear. Sophie would need the backup, since before the con was over, they were supposed to become very, very annoying.

Plans, as it was often noted, had a tendency to go less than smooth. Even the best laid con had its kinks and being on a yacht off the Florida coast was a big one. The last thing they needed was to be on an isolated boat with a sociopath on board, but refusing the invitation had been out of the question... they were so close to having Mason hooked. Despite their reservations, they had accepted and now they were floating out at sea while Mason tried to put the moves on Sophie just out of Eliot's line of sight. Listening to it over the comms was enough that he didn't need to see it as well.

And speaking of the comms... "So, we might end up needing some help here."

"Nate," Eliot growled softly as he leaned against the boat railing and fantasized about jumping in. "I'm on a boat about two hundred miles out to sea. What do you want me to do? Grow gills?"

Sophie never broke character, but he could tell she was distracted. Her flirty banter with the mark was just a little strained. The two of them had reason to be worried. Nate, Parker, and Hardison were handcuffed and had just been loaded into patrol cars as they spoke. Ordinarily, it would have been their cue to dive into action and mount a rescue. As it was, the only diving they could do right now would involve scuba gear.

"Okay, okay. I got this," Hardison's voice was that same mix of cocky and nervous that had become a trademark of his whenever they were in real trouble. "I can just, uh... give me a few minutes to work something out."

"I could get one of their guns," Parker offered helpfully.

"No guns, Parker," Nate and Eliot answered back instantly. Over the comms, they heard Sophie make a similarly negative sound before covering it expertly with a cough while the mark looked puzzled. Parker plus dangerous instruments equaled bad things. They had seen it many a time with explosives and God forbid the woman get her hands on a stun gun.

"Look, we'll work this out here, but Eliot. Sophie. You guys will be on your own until we do." Nate sounded worried and Eliot couldn't blame him. If everything they'd heard about this guy was true, the moment he sensed a deception or just as soon as they were no longer interesting to him, they would be gone. "If you get an opening to duck out while we're tied up here and you need to bail, do it. There are other cons and it's not worth your lives."

"We'll be fine." Eliot answered back. "Just get your butts out of those slings and get back to work." He was more worried than he wanted to admit. It went against the grain to be out of reach when his team needed him. Still, Sophie needed him here and for the time being, keeping her safe was the best thing he could do for the team.

Once Nate and the others had disconnected to deal with their own problems, Eliot turned back to the boat deck. As he strolled out onto the smooth, sun warmed wood planks, Mason got up from his seat beside Sophie and walked up to the upper deck to speak with the captain. Unusual, but Eliot wasn't going to complain. The less he had to talk to that slime bucket, the happier he was. Well, for a certain value of 'happy'.

"Well, that was an interesting development." Sophie's soft, accented purr had a calming effect, sometimes despite his best efforts not to succumb.

Eliot settled into the vacated seat and adjusted the too expensive shades he wore. "Which part? That Nate and the others got themselves pinched or that Captain Casanova wants to pinch you?"

"Ooh, my. If I didn't know any better, I'd say there was a note of jealousy in your voice." Sophie smiled as she shifted in her lounger and reached for her sunblock. "You're only supposed to be pretending to be my bit of rough on the side, you know."

"Yeah, I know. Every time I look in a mirror and see these stupid clothes, I know." He tugged at the collar of his polo shirt and scowled down at the three-hundred dollar pair of sandals on his feet. "Flip flops, Sophie. Nobody pays three-hundred dollars for flip flops."

"Sandals. And, I'll have you know that those are at the height of fashion." She ignored Eliot's derisive snort as she smeared the lotion onto her legs. "Besides, Catalina Lonsdale's personal assistant would never be seen wearing those clunky old boots you're always stomping around in."

"Hey, those boots are durable. They're waterproof," he turned to face her and ticked the points off on his fingers, "They're resistant to penetrative and cutting damage. And they're comfortable as hell. While we're on the subject, just whose idea was it to call me 'Felix'?"

"Well, that was Hardison's idea," Sophie admitted. "I voted for Rex."

"I'm gonna kill him." He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose and scrunched his face up as if the very idea pained him. "Okay, back to the problem at hand... it's your call, Soph. Do you want to look for a way to duck out of this? Lay low until Nate and the others get loose?"

"Of course I don't!" She sounded offended by the suggestion. She looked it, too. "I have never walked out on a con before and I don't intend to start now."

It was on the tip of his tongue to argue. His desire to keep her safe warred with his own personal pride. He'd never bailed on a job before, either. He had also been in dangerous situations worse than this one before. While Sophie's entire work history wasn't known to him, he was pretty sure that this wasn't a usual occurrence for her. Sophie was a grifter; an actress, and a damn good one too when there was no script and no stage involved. She didn't deal with violence regularly like he did.

"Alright, we'll stay in for now. If it looks like we're in trouble, I'm pulling the plug, though." He settled back in his seat. "Nate's right. The con's not worth getting you killed over."

***

The Sun King -- if there was a more pretentious name for a yacht, Sophie had never heard it -- put into port about an hour after they had last spoken to Nate and the others. She was worried for them, yes, but they were the best at what they did. She had faith they would get out of their predicament. The only big question was whether they'd get out in time to help her and Eliot finish the con. The longer they tried to stay in this cover, the more dangerous it became.

She strolled along the deck with an ornate, Japanese fan pushing the sea air across her skin as the crew finished docking procedures. A tiny itch in the middle of her shoulder blades told her that Mason's eyes were on her. She cut a pretty svelte figure if she did say so herself. The midnight blue two piece suit with matching sarong accentuated all the best curves when she walked, and her over sized hat and shades gave her that Hollywood glamor touch. It hadn't taken a lot to get Mason's attention. Men like Mason were easy. So sure of themselves. It was going to feel so good to see him get what he deserved.

"Ms. Lonsdale," the oily voice of Alex Mason floated over her left shoulder and she smiled a little. It was so nice to be right. "May I walk with you?"

Sophie stopped and turned to face him, nudging the shades down on her nose to see him more clearly. He was not an altogether unattractive man with his sandy blond hair and startlingly green eyes. Dressed from head to toe in nothing but the finest that Milan had to offer, he would have been a fair catch if not for the unfortunate hobby of transporting illegal narcotics into the United States and lacing them with poison. Deliberate or no, they hadn't yet found out. Either way, he needed to be stopped.

Their client was the despondent child of a rich, self-medicating woman who had died after using the contaminated drugs. Through intervention, she had been on the road to recovery from addiction when a brief relapse brought her to the drugs that had killed her. The son wasn't looking for financial payback; he had money. He wanted the drugs and the dealer off the street. It had taken a few weeks of concentrated effort from Hardison's computer wizardry and Eliot pounding the pavement to find the source. Then, the more they dug into the operation, the dirtier Mason looked. Drugs were just the tip of the filthy iceberg.

"I'd be delighted for the company, Mister Mason." She smiled her best, coy smile and pushed her shades back into place with one perfectly manicured finger before she took the arm he offered her. "This yacht is lovely. I must say I'm impressed. You certainly know how to show a lady the best that you have to offer."

"I'm only just getting started, my dear." He smiled, showing all his teeth like a shark. It was a bit unnerving. Something in his eyes was unsettling in a way that no perfectly sculpted hair and GQ suit could cover. "I'd love to have you over for dinner tonight. My personal chef is one of the finest in the country."

In the back of her mind, Sophie could hear Eliot's emphatic refusal already. They were supposed to get close, but it was becoming too close for comfort. Especially with no backup in place. "Dinner sounds wonderful. After such an exciting day, I'm sure we'll be more than ready for a good meal."

"We?" Mason raised an inquisitive eyebrow and glanced back over his shoulder to where Eliot was still standing with the crew members who were finishing up the mooring. Eliot wasn't scowling outright, but Sophie knew him well enough to see it lurking just under the surface. She wondered if Mason could, as well? "Surely your assistant would like a night off? If you get an important call, he can take a message."

"Now, now Mister Mason--"

"Alex," he interrupted. "Please."

"Very well, Alex." She smiled indulgently at him. "Felix brought me to the dance. It would be terrible manners to leave with someone else."

"So true. So very true. My apologies." He patted her hand on his elbow as he steered her back toward the ramp to exit the boat. "I'll just have to enjoy your solitary company where I can get it."

***

"No." There was nothing about this trip that Eliot liked. He didn't like the mark, he didn't like the aliases, he didn't like the yacht trip, and he especially didn't like watching Sophie stroll around with a psycho while he stood by chatting up the hired help. Dinner was a huge, resounding 'no'.

"I didn't ask your permission, Eliot." Sophie's voice floated over the changing screen set up between the bedroom and the enormous closet the hotel suite had provided. She was trying on evening dresses for the dinner invitation tonight. She was on her fourth dress and Eliot had been saying 'no' since number two.

"It's out of the question. The guys is nuts. He's dangerous. He wants you and he wants you alone. When we get there, he'll make some excuse to separate us." Eliot was pacing irritably back and forth across the bedroom floor. "This time tomorrow, I'll be fishing you out of the ocean piece by piece if you go, Sophie. No."

"Exactly why we need to keep him on the hook." Sophie stepped out from behind the screen with a shimmering, gold gown that draped nicely over one shoulder. It was her favorite so far. "He'll lose interest at best, or get suspicious at worst, if we don't keep playing along. The others are very good. They'll get out of their jam and in the meantime, we'll keep the con going. Now, zip me up."

Eliot grunted something indecipherable as he took hold of the zipper slide and tugged. Sophie cringed at the sound of threads straining under his hands. She glared at him over her bare shoulder. "Easy! Do you have any idea how much this dress costs?"

"More than my shoes?" He rumbled under his breath and glared right back as he got the zipper up. Then he sighed. "I don't want you to go to that dinner, Sophie, but if you're going, I'm going."

"You want to borrow one of my dresses, then?" Sophie laughed and was surprised to find herself yanked around to face Eliot who wore a scowl she hadn't often seen directed at her. "Hey!"

"This isn't a game, now. These guys are animals and they won't think twice about killing you to get what they want, or to protect their business, or just because they feel like it." Eliot was almost nose to nose with her and his breath brushed along her cheek, pushing back the stray hair that had fallen into her face at the sharp turn. "I'm not gonna let you get yourself killed to win a prize. It's not worth it."

"And that woman who died?" She challenged him, angry and indignant over the lack of regard for the life lost. "Was she not worth it?"

"She wasn't worth you." There was a flicker of something in Eliot's expression that was gone almost before it was there, but to Sophie's expert eye it had been as clear as if he'd shouted it. He wasn't worried about the danger to himself, even though he would most certainly die right along with her if something went wrong. He didn't want to lose _her_.

"Eliot--" It might have been a good thing that she hadn't gotten to finish that sentence. God only knows what she would have said. That worry vanished with the sudden press of Eliot's mouth against hers and the hard lines of his body crushed up against her.

She wasn't thinking of the mark when her lips parted to encourage the kiss deeper. She wasn't thinking of Nate and the others in their cells somewhere when her arms wrapped around Eliot's neck and held on tight. She wasn't thinking of the client, the con, or the danger as she luxuriated under the feel of hands roughened by hard work and harder living gliding along her body over smooth silk. At that moment, thought and speech seemed highly overrated. Her entire focus narrowed to the taste and the feel of him, and suddenly she could appreciate just how warm these tropical nights really were.

***

Eliot couldn't read a face like Sophie could. She could look at a man and know just what to say to draw out his most well kept secrets. The one thing Eliot did well was read a fight. Before the first punch was even thrown, he already had an idea of how the fight would go and had formulated a set of moves and variants to win. He understood aggression when he saw it. He understood resistance.

He was not getting any resistance, right now.

In a small part of his mind -- the part that was always working the angles of the moment to be sure there was always a way out -- was very emphatically against this. Getting involved with a "co-worker" was always a bad move, whether you were in the car sales business or paid assassins. It usually brought more complications than it was worth. That was one of the reasons he tried so hard to never let himself get too close. Get close, get attached, get compromised. He'd stayed alive this long being uncompromising. That part hadn't really worked with this group and somehow he'd known it wouldn't when he first agreed to that team up to get revenge on Victor Dubenich. They'd all gotten under his skin.

The uncompromising part of his brain wasn't getting through to him. He scooped Sophie up in his arms and carried her the few steps to the bed. Not because she couldn't get there on her own; Sophie Devereaux was no damsel in distress unless she was playing the part and Eliot knew that as well as anyone. He did it to distract himself. To quiet the logic brain that was desperately trying to regain hold and stop what was about to happen.

He set her down in the center of the ridiculous, king sized bed that dominated the center of the room and immediately covered her with his body. They'd broken the kiss for air and he felt her lips moving along the skin of his throat. It was a dangerous, vulnerable spot that made his body tense for an instant before he fought it down. This wasn't a fight, as much as the blood singing in his veins and the capable partner moving underneath made his body want to think it was. His arms tight around her, he rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him.

Sophie looked up, face inches from his, panting soft breaths that mingled with his and made him ache in all the best ways. "Strange," she murmured through lips he'd always thought were not needing of any cosmetic help to look bright and full. "I'd have figured you for the type to want to be in control."

His hands found good holds on her hips and squeezed. They moved down her thighs to slide under the delicate fabric of her dress and move back up to her hips. A thumb lightly traced the lacy edge of her panties before he answered. "You'd have figured right."

She smiled at that and he felt something tighten deep in his gut at the sight. It wasn't one of her actress smiles. It was soft and pleased. A smile he could get used to, if he let himself.

***

Either Eliot had given over control to show trust or he had a fetish. Sophie wasn't of a mind to worry which it was as she worked the buttons on his flannel shirt open. Eliot's distaste for the couture clothing she had foisted on him for this con assured that he would be in jeans and a plain shirt the moment they retired to the hotel for the evening. It was an often annoying, sometimes endearing trait that she was so very pleased with now as she got his shirt open to expose the strong, thickly muscled chest she'd only had the pleasure of admiring from a distance in the past.

Her hands moved over the muscular ridges and her nails combed through the fine hair that dusted his chest and became darker and more pronounced as it dipped lower and tapered off pleasantly. Oh, he was very nice to look at. A fact she'd noticed most prominently when they'd been in Nebraska with Eliot posing as a UFC fighter. He had always been fascinating to watch, but shirtless made the view all the better.

She bent and pressed her lips to a space just above his collar bone. It was the soft, slightly hollow spot just before his throat. Every time she got near his throat, she could feel him tense. Perhaps that was what made it so appealing? This powerful, deadly man had a weakness and he was willingly exposing it to her without a fight. The feeling of control was not at all unpleasant. She sucked hard on the spot and then stroked it lightly with the tip of her tongue. Underneath her, Eliot groaned softly and his hands tightened on her hips. The motion ground their hips together roughly and she had to shudder as well, as the thin layer of lace she wore did little to dull the friction of the tough denim against her skin.

A wicked glint appeared in Eliot's eye as he repeated the motion. Sophie's eyes closed and her teeth set into her bottom lip as Eliot rocked their bodies together. The thin, white lace shifted out of position and she felt it ride up right at her center, the bunched up fabric rubbing back and forth against her clit each time they moved. It was a long moment that she let him continue and she just enjoyed the sensations, but then control came back to her and she remembered that control was exactly what she was supposed to have, here.

Her hands gripped his wrists hard and she captured his gaze. She saw confusion and uncertainty in his eyes before she yanked his hands off her and then slammed them down against the bed. On any other surface, the action might have been threatening. When Eliot felt her pin his hands to the soft mattress on either side of his head, he just grinned. There was no shark in his smile. Eliot was warm and strong, powerful, loyal, fierce... he was a wolf. A member of the pack. Her pack.

She kissed him, then. Hard. Their teeth bumped against one another and his tongue battled with hers, before surrendering so nicely she moaned into the kiss. Her hands left his wrists and trailed lightly down his chest again and then lower to cover the prominent bulge in his jeans and squeeze carefully. She didn't want to hurt him, only get his attention, which she knew she had when he bucked under her hand and then glared up at her with a smoldering look that had nothing to do with anger.

"Clothes off," she demanded and squeezed again to watch him twist urgently under her. "I want you naked. Right now."

"Yes, ma'am," he breathed in the same way he'd been answering 'Ms. Lonsdale' throughout the entire con. It made her laugh for just a second until the laughter choked off as Eliot surged up from his prone position to a sitting one. It brought them face to face again and the undeniable look of need in his expression made her breath catch.

Her breathing was a staccato mix of laughter and moans while Eliot got his clothes off without upsetting her from her perch across his lap. His hands strayed plenty while he was working his jeans off, even going so far as to hold her tightly to him with an arm while his free hand slipped under her dress and his rough, blunt fingers explored her thoroughly. He seemed disinclined to upset her panties from where they'd been caught and instead used his thumb to rub her clit through them. The entire time, he held her gaze solidly with his own and smiled when she squirmed and moaned his name.

Too much of that would have distracted her from her goal and once again she pushed his hands away and restated her demand. In no time at all, he was naked and lying back in a way that she almost could have believed was docile if she hadn't known him so well. There was nothing docile about the man, unless he chose to be. Sophie found herself a little intoxicated on the power he was giving her over him, even if he broke free now and again. She reached behind her and slowly slipped down the zipper he'd helped her with just a few moments before. She enjoyed watching how his almost casual expression focused to a laser-like intensity as the zipper opened and she inched the dress down on her body. Every inch of newly exposed skin was drunk in with greedy eyes that sent urgent signals, the lower the dress got.

Sophie let it pool at her waist, forgotten for a moment while her hands moved light and teasing over the lacy strapless bra she'd put on to match the panties he was already well acquainted with. Her hands moved over her breasts, pushing them together at the center of her chest before she brought them back, her sculpted fingernails making a tantalizing scratching sound against the lace. She leaned forward to brace a hand on either side of his head and bring her body low. "Take it off," she breathed. "No funny business."

A knowing grin twitched one corner of Eliot's mouth as he reached up. His hands lightly worked the fastening clasps at the back of the bra and removed it without a single stray touch. He tossed it aside and looked up at her expectantly. His flushed skin and the sweat beading on his brow made him look absolutely delectable to her.

"Good boy," she purred and didn't miss the flash in his eyes at being called a 'boy', but she was counting on him proving how very much a man he was very soon. "You've earned a reward." His look of interest made her grin. "Touch me. Only the bare skin."

Eliot's hands were on her immediately. She shivered to feel the rough calluses raised by fighting and weapons play on her smooth skin. Everything about Eliot was a study in contrasts. Strong, powerful hands and a gentle touch. Capable of so much violence and damage, but fiercely protective. And his mouth, when she kissed him, was every hard and soft contradiction that made all the best kisses worthwhile.

She sighed softly and let her hips move a little against him while his hands cupped and kneaded her breasts softly. Two blunt thumbs circled her nipples and rubbed hard against the sensitive nubs. His moans joined the soft sounds she was almost unaware of making when she cradled his aching erection between her legs and rocked against him. Her body was angled so that the moist lace bunched between her legs would rub against the underside of his cock as her hips rolled in slow circles. Turnabout was fair play and she smiled to think he was getting a little taste of the same luscious torment she'd felt at his hands.

"Enough," she said finally and sat up straight. His hands fell away and she was gratified to see him clutch at the duvet cover to hold them in place. "You're awfully quiet," she noted lightly as she gathered the dress at her waist and slowly pulled it up to remove it. "Tell me what you want, Eliot."

"I want you," he growled with what sounded like considerable effort to make himself clear. His body was wracked with fine tremors as he struggled to hold himself in check and allow her to make all the moves. She could tell in that moment that his restraint was thin at best.

"That's not good enough," she _tsk_-ed gently as she paused in pulling the dress off. It was strategically draped to block his view of her breasts and she watched him scowl. "Tell me clearer. What do you want."

"Want me inside you. I want you callin' my name." The look in his eyes promised she would. Eliot was very much a man of his word. It had always been one of the things she liked best about him.

"Very good." The dress hit the floor and she didn't spare it another thought. "I like the sound of that."

"Yeah, me too." Eliot grunted as he grabbed fistfuls of the delicate lace panties she still wore and tore them off her with a satisfying ripping sound.

Sophie glared down at him with her hands on her hips. "I liked those, you know."

Eliot's hands covered hers and gripped tight to lift, urging her up onto her knees. "I'll buy you another pair. A dozen."

She moved with his urging, the momentary annoyance over the destruction of her lingerie gone with the acknowledgment of what was about to happen. She pushed up onto her knees and shivered as she felt Eliot's hands move from her hips to reach between them and guide his admittedly impressive erection home. "Oh, yes..." she breathed as she lowered herself slowly to fully enjoy every second of the experience. Once she was settled down with her hips flush against his, she paused to savor the moment.

Eliot, hands on her hips again, tolerated the pause for a few seconds before his fingers tightened on her and he twitched impatiently. "Darlin', you've gotta move."

"I'm in charge, here," she reminded him as she peered down through heavy lidded eyes. "I don't have to do anything." That wasn't strictly true, either. Her own body was screaming for more. Still, any good thespian knew that the build to the climax was the most important part.

"Soph," he grunted and the underlying tone of his voice had taken on a needy twinge. "I don't beg. If that's what you're waiting for, we're gonna be here a long time."

"Do you have somewhere else to go?" She asked dreamily with a slight shift of her hips that made him hiss a breath between his teeth and hold tighter to her.

"Thought you had dinner plans?" He grinned a little, although it was strained.

"Brute," she groused and slapped his chest lightly with her fingertips. "Seems I've had a better offer than dinner."

"Yeah? I can give you an even better offer..."

Intrigued, Sophie raised an eyebrow and tipped her head to one side. "Really? I don't know, Eliot... I find that pretty hard to believe." To illustrate her point, she rolled her hips again and he groaned a desperate sound.

"Sophie!" It was probably meant to be a reprimand, but to her ears it rang of needy desperation. She really liked the sound of his voice calling her name like that.

"Yes, Eliot? Your offer?"

"If you quit teasing and ride me though this mattress, right now," He caught her eye and stretched, his back arching up against her as he reached his hands up near the headboard. "I'll teach you how to tie Kinbaku knots. You still got all those fancy silk scarves?" He wiggled his eyebrows playfully up at her.

A slow smile curved her lips. "I accept."

Eliot didn't have a chance to respond before she was moving on top of him and all his breath left him in panting gasps. Sophie was a woman of her word as much as Eliot was a man of his. When she agreed to ride him through the mattress, that was exactly what she intended to to. Every time her hips slammed down against him, she saw sparks and heard Eliot's voice calling for more in a voice that sounded suspiciously like begging.

She leaned down and braced her hands on his shoulders to change the angle and would have smiled at the way his eyes followed the sway of her breasts if she could have formed the expression. As much as she enjoyed the feel of control over him, she could feel her control over herself slipping quickly away. Her movements reached a fevered pitch, hips slamming into him even as he thrust up into her again and again. She was gasping, moaning, and could feel sweat trickling down her spine. Eliot's hands scrabbled for a grip on the slick skin of her hips. They'd teased each other so well, so long... oh, she was close.

Without warning, Eliot released her with one hand, bracing himself with that elbow on the bed. His other arm held tightly to her as he pushed himself up. Sophie gasped, surprised by the sudden motion and stopped moving. Eliot didn't stop. His cock continued to piston up into her even as his head bent to take one of her nipples into his mouth. Her gasp was sharper as he sucked hard. The slight sting was just the last sensation she needed to send her tumbling over the edge.

His mouth released her then but his hips never slowed. She wasn't sure who was riding who anymore, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the way he moved and every ragged breath he gasped out. He lay back flat, hands on her hips as he continued to drive himself up into her. Impossibly, Sophie felt her orgasm continue well past the moment she had been sure of its completion. Her fingers dug into his shoulders while she rode the waves and watched his face twist in what looked like agony, but was so very far from it.

When they finally came to a stop, both were breathing hard and Sophie's arms trembled slightly as they held her up. She looked down at him with a feeling of near astonishment. "Wow..."

He chuckled deep in his chest and rolled them, stretching out beside her. His hand came up to brush sweat dampened strands of her hair back off her face. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"No, I mean it." She laughed breathlessly as she leaned into his touch. "If I'd known all that was waiting, I'd have tried to get Nate and the others locked up ages ago!"

Eliot laughed then. It was a full laugh, uncensored and relaxed. They lay together peacefully for a while until the sweat on their bodies cooled. Eliot had Sophie's head pillowed on his chest and he slid his fingers lightly through her hair, enjoying the feel of the silky threads slipping through them. He broke the silence first. "So, what about dinner?"

"Mm." Sophie opened her eyes. She took a deep breath and shrugged. "I'll call him. Perhaps I can convince him to dine somewhere more public? If not... I suppose I'll cancel and we can make our escape. Try to meet back up with the others to formulate a new plan."

"Willing to walk away from this one, then?" He asked, sounding surprised.

"No." She closed her eyes and wiggled closer. Eliot's arms tightened around her and she smiled. "Willing to postpone it. Besides... someone promised me a knot tying lesson, didn't he?"

He laughed again. Sophie felt the vibration tickle her cheek. "Suppose I did. Gimmie a minute to catch my breath, darlin', and I'm all yours."

"Eliot."

"Hmm?"

"You _will_ beg."


End file.
